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We didn't do it before with the tall side to the moon and Scott reaching to darn stars in the dark night sky.

Yet we had the efficiency to place our lips on those words that allowed us no remorse for our ill got moments of self-aggrandisement.

And the sea swallowed our primacy, pulled at our eyes with her sure tidal momentum, touched us with her smooth glinting song

To us it was nothing, the beauty of it all enveloped the universe and disappeared sooner than it was noticed

And so our snug coterie bundled onwards, bumping between lashings of rock and snow swept tundra, holding to itself, memories walking through the hills, echoes of memories of echoes of memories...

if our opinions meant anything, we were -- at this point -- the richest men to have walked the land; and we expended our fortunes mercilessly upon the ancient citizenry, who when laden with such riches, lamented over their deprived youth...

Elderly men dabbled in the profound dark arts of the dead. Women bore half-breed children in our wake. We proselytised a nation of boy-men, a dawn of half-formed hunters. They erected testaments to our hardened will, and our likenesses became their esoteric signs of divinity.

Conversation with a muttering madman: alternate paragraphs, theopposablethumb takes the even numbers.